


Competition

by princessrosberg



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Choking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrosberg/pseuds/princessrosberg
Summary: Max hates the competition.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is shit I spat it out in 10 minutes it's a bit nasty and has power play and lots of choking  
Enjoy lads!

Max's hand is around Pierre's throat the moment they make it to the motorhome. 

"What the fuck was that?" Max snarls, his hand tightening around Pierre's throat. He hates that Pierre is smirking at him. 

"What was what Max? Don't like being overtook?" Pierre teases back, his foot dragging along Max's ankle. If it was down to Max he'd of hit the prick there and then. Even if half of him wants to kiss those ridiculously pretty lips. 

"You know the deal here." Max spits back. He hates the little prick. Hates that hes breaking the rules he put in place. Hates that hes being defied. His grip tightens even more on Pierre's throat, but that just makes the Frenchman smirk more. 

"Little Maxy can't cope with a little competition?" Pierre teases back, his foot still rubbing against Max's ankle. That does it. That fucking nickname is enough to send him over the edge. He pulls Pierre away from the wall by his throat and slams him against the floor, straddling his waist to stop him from moving. Pierre is smirking throughout the entire time, even more so when he lifts his hips to press against Max's growing erection. 

"You're lucky you're even still here Pierre." Max growls at him. His free hand runs down between his own legs to slip into Pierre's jeans. It's the first time his smirk has faltered. Max doesn't waste any time, his hand curls around his dick and tugs roughly at the skin. Pierre whines out, in that high pitched pathetic way Max has come to love. 

He's a shaking mess already , and Max fucking loves it. 

"Open your eyes baby, I want you to look at me when you come." Pierre's eyes flutter open, still half lidded as he gazes up at Max. His cheeks are flushed - either from the intense feelings or the lack of airflow- and his mouth is open to let out pathetic cries. 

"M-Max..." Pierre breathes out, his hips roughly bucking into Max's hand. Max just smiles at him sweetly. He loves it when Pierre moans his name. "Max please...fuck..." Max doesn't reply, just watches intently as the boy gets lost in pleasure. He can tell he's close, Max had picked up on the telltale signs long long ago. Pierre never lasted long. 

"Ah...Max I-I love you..." Max doesn't register the words at first, too focused on the hot come that's now coating his entire hand. But then he catches Pierre blushing furious and hiding his face behind his arms. Huh. 

Max doesn't say anything else, just pulls his hand away, licks it clean and leaves the boy a quivering mess on the floor. 

Maybe he could get used to Pierre saying that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierre's fucked, and Max loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow hello again. I wasnt expecting that from Red Bull but at the same time I was. I hate my fucking team. This is shit I'm sorry.

Max is half awake when he hears someone banging on his door. He jolts awake, the headset falling away from his neck. He forgot he was supposed to be playing a round of Fifa with Lando that night. He looks over to the window, the rain pounding against it in the dark and wonders if he did hear someone or if it was just the rain. 

Its answered for him when he hears his name being called. 

Max throws his headset onto the sofa and heads over to the door. He fumbles for his key for a moment before it swings open, and hes met with a drenched Pierre on the other side. 

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in." Max smirks a little, watching as the elder boy pushes past him and dumps his way coat on the floor. Max shakes his head and turns around to follow him. 

Pierre looks like shit. He's dripping from head to toe, there's a bruise on his cheek and his eyes are completely bloodshot. Max isnt quite sure what that's from. 

"I thought we agreed not to meet up over summer?" Max asks, dropping back down onto the sofa beside him. 

"Yeah...we did...but things changed." Pierre replies. He doesnt bother looking up to Max. 

He knows why, of course he does it's all over social media. He just wasnt sure how to breach the topic with Pierre just yet. 

"You brought this on yourself though." Max says. He feels Pierre tense up beside him, and then the hand is around his throat this time. Pierre has a surprisingly strong grip as he pins Max down against the sofa, straddling his lap to keep him in place.

"Its my fault they love you so much? It's my fault that I have to play second to you all the fucking time? What am I supposed to do Maximilian? Go against the golden child, dont make me laugh." Pierre squeezes harder, his nails digging into the skin on Max's neck. Max is close to punching his stupidly pretty face, but then Pierre's eyes soften slightly and he leans down to kiss Max. 

He's surprised at how soft it is, but it makes a nice change from the lip biting and back scratching he's used to. He grabs at Pierre's thighs so he can sit the two of them up, and Pierre's hands tangle in his hair. It's weird, Pierre is rutting against him, mouthing at his lips but he can feel the tears dripping onto his own cheeks. 

Pierre mumbles something against Max's neck, between the soft kisses and bites. 

"What?" 

"Fuck me and make me forget everything, please Max." 

They pull away from each other, Pierre looks down at him, his lips swollen and his eyes red. Theres another tear that escapes. Max smiles. 

"Okay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote more of this. Apparantly is a multi chapter fic now and theres kinda some plot? I shit it out in like 10 minutes sorry enjoy fucked up boys that dont know how to Express love

It's the first fucking lap and he's out. His home away from home. It wasn't even the contact that fucked him, maybe Max wouldn't be as annoyed if it was. No, it was the bloody steering. And when Max hits into the barriers he wants nothing more than to rip the wheel out of its place and smash it against the barrier. But he doesnt want the thousands of euros taken out of his pay check. So he settles on punching himself in the leg.

When he finally gets back to the paddock, finishes up his interviews and his talk with Christian, he sulks back to his motorhome. Max kicks the door open and reluctantly turns the race on. He doesn't really care where Alex is - his new teammate apparently- nor how Daniel's doing in his shitty powered Renault. He's watching Pierre. His ex teammate, the boy who should be by his side. He's argued and screamed at Christian and Helmut, tried to reason that it wont fucking work and that his performance won't be as good without the Frenchie. But Helmut just shut him up like he always does and Christian offered a half arsed apology. Fucking assholes.

He falls asleep sometime during the race, because he's waking up to his door being opened. 

"Not in the mood Alex go away..." He doesn't open his eyes, just rolls over to get more comfortable. 

"It's me." That makes him sit up. Pierre is in the doorway looking down at him. The bruise on his cheek isn't there anymore. Max remembers kissing it when he was fucking him over the arm of the sofa. 

"Oh, hey. Came to rub it in I assume?" Max mumbles, ruffling his messy hair to try and make it somewhat presentable. 

"No actually, came to make you feel better but I can just fuck off if you want me to?" Pierre grumbles back. He doesn't make the move to leave though , just stands in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. 

"No, you can come over here and fuck me though." They're both as surprised as each other when the words leave Max's lips. Where the fuck did that come from?

Pierre is on him before he can speak.

He has a surprising amount of strength to pin both of Max's wrists above his head as his other hand works at his jeans. "Hey wait I didn't-" Pierre let's go of his wrists to cover his mouth, the rest of his sentence an incoherent mess against his palm. 

"You asked for it Maxy, and I wouldn't be a good fuck buddy if I didn't provide now would I?" The confidence Pierre has is really hot. It was Max squirming beneath him, but not to the point that he wants to leave. Pierre's soft hand grips at his cock and doesn't have any mercy. It's dry and Pierre's hand is making it burn more than anything, but the look of dominance on his face and the way his hand has slipped down to curl around Max's throat is too good.

"Who's the pathetic bitch now huh?" He squeezes Max's cock hard at that, and a yelp of pain escapes his lips. Pierre removes his hand for a moment - much to the dismay of Max - but its soon replaced by his warm and wet mouth. 

"Jesus Pierre..." Max whispers out, his hands winding into Pierre's hair. He pushes his head down until the tip of his cock is pressing against the back of Pierre's throat, and the little shit doesn't even gag. Pierre pins his hips down to stop him fucking his mouth, and bobs his head up and down, running his tongue flat against the base. Max digs his nails into his scalp, mumbles out in Dutch when Pierre nips the tip. He's so damn close, Pierre's mouth is so fucking sinful and he loves it. So much so that...

"God I love you..." Pierre stops, pulls his mouth away and stares down at Max in surprise. It takes him a moment to come to the realisation of what he'd said in his dazed state. 

"Max?" 

"Get out." 

"Max wait-" Max yanks his jeans up, not caring that he's still hard and straining painfully against the material. He pushes against Pierre, ignoring all his soft protests until he can shove him outside and lock the door. He can hear Pierre on the other side trying to reason with him, but Max just covers his ears to drown it out.

What the fuck is wrong with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS IS GOING I WAS GONNA MAKE IT NICER BUT I DONT WANT IT TO END SO MORE ANGST LADS

Monza rolls around way too quick for Max's liking. He's got a shitty penalty, starting at the back of the fucking grid after his crash last weekend. Truthfully he doesnt care about that, he cant stop thinking about what he'd said the last time he saw Pierre. 

Max doesn't know why he said it, it just felt so...natural. He shakes his head. Of course he doesn't love Pierre. He barely even likes him, he's just ridiculously pretty and has a sinful mouth. Max doesn't know what the hell they are.

Qualifying is shit. Even with the penalty he'd been hoping to get a few good laps in, test the pace of the car around Monza. But even the new engine had given in. All Max can think is fuck F1, especially when he catches Pierre and Charles not so subtly hiding behind a wall of tyres. Max wants to go over and punch the two of them there and then until he hears them speaking softly.

"Just ask him, maybe he wanted to wait before he said it." Charles' voice is quiet as he speaks. 

"I doubt it, he kicked me out after in the pissing down rain. It's fucked whatever it is Charles." 

"Pierre you love him, talk to him before you regret it." Max stumbles away to his motorhome after that, the words spiraling through his mind. He knew Pierre had said that, he got off on the words after he'd left, cried out Pierre's name with his hand around his own cock. 

He doesnt love him though. Max doesn't know how to. His dad hadn't taught it to him when he was a kid, ignored him and gave him so called tough love. It fucking sucked. 

He makes it back to his motorhome, but Pierre must of taken a shortcut, because he's already there - shaking and biting his lip. 

"Never thought you'd be so eager for my dutch dick." Max cringes at his own words, but he can't stop himself from trapping Pierre against the door and leaning down to kiss him. Pierre pulls away though. 

"Max I came to talk." Pierre pushes him away with a surprising amount of strength. He doesnt let Max respond, just grabs at his shirt and pulls him inside the motorhome. Max is sure he's been working out with how forceful Pierre throws him onto the bed. 

"Well this is kinky.."

"Just shut up for one fucking second Max!" Pierre growls at him. He's never seen the french man so angry before. "Why did you say you love me last race weekend? I know you dont so why the fuck would you say that?" There's tears in his eyes as he speaks. 

"Is this why you've been avoiding me?" Max replies. He's a little irritated, but he cant blame Pierre -he did kick him out of his apartment in this throwing down rain. 

"I might be some fucking joke to you Max but I do have feelings y'know, we could of just-"

"You're not a joke Pierre." Max tries, pushing himself back up from the bed. He tries to reach out to Pierre's hand but it's instantly slapped away. 

"Don't lie to me Max! I know I'm just some sad bet, taken advantage of because I'm so broke but I thought you'd be better than that." Pierre's shouting at him now, tears spilling onto his cheeks as he paces around the small room. "Fuck you Max! Fuck. You." Pierre doesnt give Max the chance to follow him, he slams the door behind him as he leaves, and Max can hear his shoes hitting the floor as he runs.


End file.
